Baseball Bat
by BlackMoonWhiteSky
Summary: Because, sometimes, imprinting was a little less 'She is all that holds you to the Earth' and a little more 'Like a Baseball Bat to the head'. OC x Paul


Because, sometimes, imprinting was a little less 'She is all that holds you to the Earth' and a little more 'Like a Baseball Bat to the head'. OC x Paul

* * *

><p><strong>Okay, for the record, I dislike Twilight. Only book I like was the second one, <strong>(Even though I read them all- I'm one of those people that really hate not knowing what's going on and some of my friends were really into it, so... It's been a while though, so my details and timeline are a bit scrambled, and I'm taking a certain level of creative freedom with it.)** and that's because Bella is so pathetic that I was actually laughing as I read it. Legitimately. And, yeah, I realize that makes me a kind of terrible human being. I'm sorry, but that's not something I feel the need to apologize for. **("But you just apologized!" Yeah, because I can't find it within me **to** apologize. I'm weird like that.)

**That said, I, unfortunately, have a thing for Werewolves/Bad-boys and Paul is hot. So…**

**Also, warning, there is cussing in abundance in this story, because 1-Paul and 2-my OC kinda has a potty mouth when stressed, which is a lot, especially in the beginning here...**

* * *

><p><strong>Baseball Bat<strong>

**The First Song: Many Unhappy Returns.**

* * *

><p>Jared could be so annoying sometimes. Actually, he was annoying most of the time- ever since he'd imprinted on Kim. Not that Paul had anything against Kim, but it was a pain listening to his best friend's pathetically love-struck thoughts. Especially since those thoughts were not always of the PG-rated variety. Really, it made him feel so fucking gross sometimes- to go on patrol with the wolves that had imprinted was a true trial, it made him really hate the telepathic link the wolves shared.<p>

For once though, Jared was not annoying because of his imprint-revolving thoughts. No, he was annoying because, well…

"Leah confirmed it, she saw the boxes herself. Your girlfriend is officially moving back to Forks." This was said with a teasing smile that had Paul clenching his teeth.

"That… **Thing** is _**not**_ my girlfriend."

"Yeah, but you wish she was. You've been yanking on her pigtails from day one." That second part was true, in that they had been at odds from the moment they met. She was infuriating and ridiculous and she drove Paul absolutely bat-shit insane.

That did _**not**_ mean that he liked her.

In fact, those were all the reasons that he couldn't stand her, and anyone that thought otherwise was completely out of their minds. This was Jared though, so even if he actually knew how much Paul disliked the girl, it wasn't really surprising that he was saying what he was. The boys got along so well because they had several similarities, the most significant in this instance- being the love of getting others worked up. Which was definitely something he was achieving.

Paul was not yet shaking with his temper, but it was clear that his anger was rising. His jaw was tight, fists clenched, eyes glaring. He was ready to lash out, and it was only his limited control that kept him from doing so. They stared each other down, Paul slowly calming the longer they stared.

And then Jared opened his big, fat mouth again.

* * *

><p>The first time Paul Lahote met Ginger Rodgers (<em>Yes, she was named after <em>_**that**__ Ginger. They had the same last name and her mother had always been a fan. It had bothered her when she was little, but she'd long ago gotten over it. After all, there were worse people she could have been named after._) he was being -_unsurprisingly_- an ass. He and Jared, though the latter was just not stopping him more than anything, were picking on a kid about two years younger than them. A five year old boy- his father was an outsider, but his mother wasn't, and so his family lived on the reservation anyways.

They were calling names, and shoving, and laughing cruelly.

He didn't even see it coming, really. One second he was giving the kid an extra hard shove, the next- he was flat on his back with the wind knocked out of him, staring up at some scrawny little white girl standing over him with a red foam baseball bat held threateningly.

It was a moment that he would **never **forget.

* * *

><p>Ginger hated small towns.<p>

Absolutely hated them.

In small towns it seemed as though everybody knew everybody else's business, and if they didn't- it was their single most important goal in life to find out. She hadn't even been back for two whole days, and she'd already lost track of the number of times she'd been asked about something she really didn't feel like sharing.

_Was she _still_ single?_

_Why did she ever move away?_

_Why had she moved back?_

_What was the city like?_

_How were her brothers?_

_Would they be moving back too?_

_Blah, blah, blah._

She hated it so much.

Ginger especially hated the smug little looks as people whispered behind their hands, saying they'd always known she wouldn't be able to make it on her own in the city, even if her brothers **were **there to keep an eye on her. As if she couldn't hear them just fine.

Nosey busybodies, the whole lot of them.

She needed it though- being in a small town. Needed to be in a small place, away from large groups of people, needed to be somewhere that had an exact body count that **could not** fluctuate by even one number without everyone and their mother knowing about it. She'd probably have a panic attack if she went back to the city. It was something she hoped to get over, of course, but that would take time. As of right now- it was way too soon.

She needed somewhere to stop and take a breather.

Somewhere to gather her wits.

If that meant her old hometown... so be it.

Never mind that she'd sworn to never come back once she got out. Never mind that she hated the fact that the whole town would know her latest fiasco within the hour of her having committed it. Never mind the fact that she was the local screw up, the odd duck, the one that would have burned at the stake just a hundred years ago.

Because, you know, God forbid she actually value her **privacy**. It was almost a sin that she had dreams that equated to leaving this Podunk town as far behind her as possible.

If one more person came snooping around under the pretense of checking to see how she was settling in... she was going to start screaming.

Maybe even drop some of the more interesting curses she'd picked up in the city- really give these ninnies something to squawk about.

_...Deep breaths..._

She had fewer boxes than when she'd left, but somehow it was taking her longer to unpack. Probably because she spent half of her time just staring at them as though it would make them, and the reason she'd moved back, simply disappear into thin air. This place... it might have been where she grew up, but it wasn't home.

Home had been destroyed rather violently several months back.

It had been destroyed in a flurry of blood and screams and tears an- _**fuck**_. She couldn't handle this shit.

Ginger dropped the box in her arms back into the truck bed and scrubbed her face with long fingered hands that were shaking. Palms pressing at her eyelids, she took deep breaths until her heart beat had calmed down.

Her parents wanted her to move back in with them, but she'd vetoed that almost the instant it'd been mentioned. Nobody knew exactly what had happened to her except for her and the people who'd done it, and she wasn't in the mood to share with the class. All they knew was that she was a wreck and that being in the city actually made her physically sick with anxiety. She was not about to sleep in their house and have to explain the screaming nightmares, she was not about to be babied.

She was a strong, independent woman, damn it! No one was going to take that from her. Not even her family.

She'd decided to compromise, though, and was currently renting out the house next door to police chief Swan. _The man with the mustache._

Swan couldn't do emotional exchanges if his life depended on it, and his ability to pick up on '_**not okay**_' vibes was practically non-existent. It made him the perfect neighbor. A respected authority figure, but someone who would stay out of her business. She could even casually drop a comment about how '**_overwhelming_**' it was to come home where everyone was so much more personal than in the city. He wouldn't do anything himself, but he often ate at the diner and that place was home to just about every gossip in town at one point or another. Would there still be way too many people trying to get into her business? Yes, but the number would probably drop by at least half.

Those that remained would be people she'd dealt with her whole life, and had mastered the handling of in the long-ago.

Another deep breath and she went back to moving boxes into the house, ignoring the way her street was suddenly rather busy for a road that didn't really go anywhere. The slam of a car door had her on alert, but a quick glance and she relaxed. It was just Swan and mini-Swan.

Although... Ginger paused, eyeing Bella up. She knew depressed when she saw it, and mini-Swan looked like she was drowning in it. Another beat and she turned back to her truck again. She valued privacy, and she wasn't a hypocrite, she'd let them deal with their own problems.

Well...

Another quick glance at Mr. Swan's completely lost expression and she decided to at least offer a friendly ear if he needed it. Raising kids was hard. Being an single man raising a teenage girl... Ginger did not envy him.

Her good deed of the year established, she returned once more to her stupid boxes.


End file.
